


You Can Sleep While I Drive

by Laura_McEwan



Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 03:39:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_McEwan/pseuds/Laura_McEwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Come on baby let's get out of this town<br/>I got a full tank of gas with the top rolled down<br/>There's a chill in my bones<br/>I don't want to be left alone<br/>So baby you can sleep while I drive</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Sleep While I Drive

_Come on baby let's get out of this town_  
 _I got a full tank of gas with the top rolled down_  
 _There's a chill in my bones_  
 _I don't want to be left alone_  
 _So baby you can sleep while I drive_

For once, he had a turn behind the wheel. The car was red, sure, but so different from the Torino. More his style. And, he was in charge of piloting for once. Top down, wind in their hair, Starsky by his side wearing a funky green visor and browsing a fistful of tourist pamphlets.

Out of Bay City. The city that had started to bring him down, the depravity they faced every day seeping into him, darkening his lonely soul and keeping him awake at night, along with deeper, more secret thoughts.

He glanced over at his partner. Starsky had slid down in his seat, bare feet propped on the dash, visor pulled down over his face. Hutch assumed he had fallen asleep; warm sunshine took his partner into that lovely neverland whenever he had the rare chance to let it. The city’s darkness pulled on him, too, Hutch knew, but Starsky was much better at hiding it, bouncing from disco to disco and girl to girl, exhausting himself into a few hours’ sleep.

The road ahead was straight and empty, allowing Hutch to indulge in longer looks. A wave of affection, tinged with something a touch more profound, breezed over him with the wind, and he rested his hand on Starsky’s arm, knowing that even if Starsky were awake, he wouldn’t question the touch.

Touches, from day one, had become normal between them, and those people that knew them no longer noticed. But Hutch had begun to notice them. White-hot on his skin, he replayed those moments in his mind, night after night, his imagination taking over and Starsky’s casual affection became ardent and beautiful.

He felt Starsky’s hand casually pat his. “Want me t’drive a while?”

“Nah. You can sleep. I’ll drive.”

And Hutch wished he could transfer his fantasies into Starsky’s dreams as easily as he could touch him.

**~*~*~**

_I'll pack my bag and load up my guitar_  
 _In my pocket I'll carry my harp_  
 _I got some money I saved_  
 _Enough to get underway_  
 _And baby you can sleep while I drive_

Even in death, Van fucked with his life.

A cop on the run, appearing to be so far on the wrong side of the line he’d toed his entire career, he didn’t know if he’d ever be seen back on the right side of it.

Starsky wouldn’t let him go alone. Aiding a fugitive meant that Starsky’s career circled the drain as surely as Hutch’s.

And yet, as Hutch steered his car through familiar streets while his partner watched for a tail out the back window, Hutch felt so profoundly grateful, it seemed nearly shameful. His initial misunderstanding of why Starsky had appeared in his apartment with an arrest warrant – he should have known Starsky wouldn’t have gone through with it for real. That he even doubted Starsky a tiny bit twisted his gut.

But beside him once again was his ever-faithful partner, certain for sure his friend wouldn’t have killed his ex-wife. It was too dishonorable a thing to do, outside the line of duty, no matter the bitch she’d been.

Duty. Was Starky’s duty to his job, or to his partner? The thought twisted in Hutch’s brain, taking more of his attention than he could truly afford. Why? It would be so easy for Starsky to walk away. Dryden said he’d have Starsky’s badge, and there wasn’t any doubt he’d do all he could to succeed in it. What about Hutch was so special that Starsky would throw away his career – and basically, his life – for him?

“Hey.” Starsky’s voice always, always got through to Hutch, regardless of the situation. This time was no different.

“What?” he snapped, knowing Starsky wouldn’t even blink.

“It’s gonna be all right. You’ll see.”

“Sure, we’ll see – right through prison bars.”

“Nah. I got a plan.”

Much later, after the formalities of charge dismissal and a reprimandish note in their files were handled by IA and Dobey, the beer and whiskey pouring smoothly down their throats, Hutch brought up San Quentin around two o’clock in the morning.

“D’ya think they’d’ve put us in a cell together, Starshk?” Hutch slurred, stumbling back to the sofa, a fresh bottle of liquor in his hand.

Starsky eyed him incredulously with one droopy, sexy blue eye.  “Would you?”

Hutch snorted as he tried unsuccessfully to twist the cap off the whiskey.

“Gimme that,” Starsky said, grabbing for the bottle. “Half the force thinks we’re gettin’ it on already; I’m sure the prison warden would want us to spread the love around other cells.”

“Starshk,” Hutch said, “I love ya, pal. Thanks for saving my bacon.”

“Aww. You know it.” Starsky snaked one arm around Hutch’s shoulders and pulled him close. Hutch could smell the alcohol on Starsky’s breath and it seemed like ambrosia. “I love ya, too.”

Hutch slid down the sofa, his head landing gently on Starsky’s shoulder. “We gotta work tomorrow. We should sleep.”

“Go ahead. Tomorrow, you can sleep while I drive.”

~*~*~

_We’ll go through Tucson up to Santa Fe_  
 _And Barbara in Nashville says we’re welcome to stay_  
 _I’ll buy you glasses in Texas, a hat from New Orleans_  
 _And in the morning you can tell me your dreams_

Starsky kept his cover, but inside his heart was thrilling to hear Hutch playing his guitar, up on that stage. Decked out in cowboy hat and a band behind like they’d been playing with him for years, Hutch looked happy and rested.

Starsky had bought him that hat in Vegas where they’d gone to help the locals pin down a strangler. Hutch lost his boyhood friend on that trip; Jack Mitchell had been no strangler even though Starsky was sure he was, and the hat was a peace offering to Hutch for being wrong and doubting his partner’s certainty.

 He wore it whenever he had the chance, and Starsky couldn’t help but smile at the transformation that always came over Hutch when he did. He became a different person – a more creative, loving, focused person.

Starsky knew the job was getting to him. To them both.

A swell of lust rose up within him, and a dream he’d had recalled itself to the forefront. The night he’d gotten so drunk on moonshine that he’d laid his head in Hutch’s lap in the Torino, he’d dreamt that there’d been more to the moment. Hutch’s hand petting his chest; Starsky’s tongue snaking behind the buttons of Hutch’s shirt. Pulling over to the side of the road to fondle more heavily. Starsky had awakened with the surge of release, sticky, shocked and dazed.

Starsky held his smile and applauded loudly as Hutch had the whole room dancing. And when Hutch’s gaze swung his way, Starsky’s smile faltered beneath the hot blue intensity.

The dream returned that night.

~*~*~

_You know I've seen it before_  
 _This mist that covers your eyes_  
 _You've been looking for something_  
 _That's not in your life_  


Protection. He protected his own heart from what he was sure would be a rejection by Starsky should he tell his partner the truth. So instead, he would distract Kira from him, thereby gaining Starsky’s attention.

It all made perfect sense.

It didn’t matter he’d come to tell Kira she couldn’t keep doing this to his partner anymore. Playing on Starsky’s emotions as he looked for love, in clearly all the wrong places.

He pulled Kira close, tracing his finger within the open neckline of her blouse. She thrust her breasts against him, whispering in his ear.

“Kiss them, Hutch. Mmm…”

Even as he undressed her, Starsky held foremost in his mind.  A nipple in his mouth became Starsky’s, her hair became his riotous curls, her tongue, his.

Kira on her knees before him. In the dark, it was all too easy to imagine her as Starsky. Licking him, fondling his balls, sucking on him until he was nearly helpless in his thrusts.

He pulled out and lifted her, dropped her on the bed and climbed onto her back. She arched beneath him, presenting herself for fucking, and for a moment he touched her asshole. She jumped, looking over her shoulder.

“Do you want that? I have lube.”

The offer was made with a breathless whisper, her eyes so dark in the faint light.

No. He’d likely lose all control and call her by the wrong name. He tried hard to push the image of Starsky’s dark blue eyes from his mind, but the gaze was insistent, hot, needy.

“Fuck me,” Starsky insisted, and Hutch thrust into Kira, her pussy wet and warm. She keened, pushing back.

He bent over her, teasing a nipple with one hand and stroking her clit with the other, riding her as she bucked beneath him until she clenched around him. Her whimpers and cries lit up his brain and he poured himself into her, but it was Starsky he held and Starsky he rode through the final spasms, leaving him weak and panting.

He pulled himself free and lay down beside her, gathering her trembling body close. As she pulled the sheet over them, he drifted.

“I love you.” Low, muttered.

He jerked awake.  Starsky wasn’t there. Kira slept on.

Hutch stared at the ceiling as the sun rose, erasing what lingering ghostliness of his partner that remained in his mind.

~*~*~

_My intentions are true_  
 _Won't you take me with you_  
 _And baby you can sleep while I drive_

_Oh is it other arms you want to_  
 _Hold you the stranger_  
 _The lover you're free_  
 _Can't you get that with me_

Starsky knew it for what it was. Hutch’s ploy for attention, to not lose his partner to another girl he felt too serious about. It had happened before, back with Terri, but her impending death made it clear that Hutch would only have to bide his time until she was dead.

They worked through the Kira thing.  Sometimes it felt as though Hutch had something more to say about his relationship with that woman, more than just proving to Starsky she wasn’t worth it. But just when Starsky thought he’d teased it out of Hutch, his partner would shut down, change the subject, go for a run, take a shower.

Now there was Alison; or rather, Laura. Out of the blue, needing help. They’d both flirted with her, teasingly, but Starsky knew that Hutch wouldn’t get in between an old friend and his partner, if it really was serious.

But he didn’t feel that way about her.

Lately his feelings had been far more about his partner. After their battle over Kira and the subsequent closeness after they’d closed the door on her hell, they’d spent nights together, talking about everything and anything, apologizing with touches, falling asleep and waking up fully clothed, less and less embarrassed each time.

Once, as he was about to drop off, he’d heard Hutch clearly say his name. _Starsk._ Not that odd; they did spend 75% of their time together – more like 90% lately – but the fact of it settled in a quiet corner of Starsky’s mind to plant seeds and grow, watered with the intense memory of that particular night – rain, coffee, whiskey, words and pain, touches and whispers, apologies and acceptance.

There’d been more behind Hutch’s eyes that night.  Starsky wanted him to open up, to say what he really felt. Hutch could trust him. He wouldn’t hurt his partner again in a million years. _Just say it, Hutch_ , he wanted to insist. _Tell me you’re in love with me._

_Guess what, partner?_ _The feeling’s mutual._

After the ping-pong game. After dinner.  _I’ll say it first if I have to._

_The bullets fired, flung from a weapon and meant to kill him. Time slowed to a snail’s lazy crawl, rocketed, stopped and started again._

_He looked down and saw Hutch running. Not jogging. Running as if he were chasing death. “He is,” Starsky thought, and then the world jerked to a stop once more, only to fling him back into pain and light and life._

_“I don’t know what to do, Starsk.”_

_I do, partner. I do._

Starsky opened his eyes.

_Come on baby let's get out of this town_  
 _I got a full tank of gas with the top rolled down_  
 _If you won't take me with you_  
 _I'll go before night is through_  
 _And baby you can sleep while I drive_

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 Con*Strict conzine. Much thanks to Sue for her read-through, and Sian for an annual party.


End file.
